


Risen

by Higgies230



Series: One Whole [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-10-21 05:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10679043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgies230/pseuds/Higgies230
Summary: Jon Snow and Ygritte were soulmates. This means that when Melisandre brought Jon Snow back to the land of the living... well it meant that Ygritte came back too.





	1. Prolouge

  Jon had never really believed in the whole soulmates thing. The idea that your soul was connected to that of another who you would love completely. Someone that you had never met suddenly becoming the person that you would never want to leave for no reason... Jon just didn't buy it.

  His father and Lady Catelyn were  soulmates with matching silver circles over their right shoulder blade. He had never seen Lady Stark's mark but he had seen his father's when he was younger and the Lord of Winterfell had be stripping off his sweat soaked shirt after training. It was true that Lord and Lady seemed to be very much in love but Jon himself was the evidence that that was all a lie. He knew he wouldn't be the only bastard of a soulmate either.

   There were those in the world that were unmarked and still found love with another. Only around half of the people in Westeros had the soul marks but unmarked people still got married and had families. Then again, Jon didn't have much faith in love either. He didn't really think that it was a practical concept. Sure he loved his father and his brothers and sisters, but that was a very different love to that Catelyn and Eddard Stark shared.

  Catelyn Stark didn't love him because of who his mother was, because of the proof he showed that soulmates weren't a reliable thing. It wasn't because of who he was as a person. Robb loved Jon as an act of rebellion against his mother. Arya, Bran and Rickon were too young to understand what he was and as soon as they were then they would no longer see him as they did. They wouldn't ask where their brother Jon was. They'd ask where the bastard of Winterfell was, or they simply wouldn't ask at all. They would turn out like Sansa.

  So no, Jon Snow never had faith in what he saw was such a fickle and trivial emotion. It meant that on his sixteenth name day when the mark appeared he was horrified and angered at the universe rather than ecstatic like the majority of the population of Westros. Who would want a bastard as a soulmate anyway? He couldn't imagine anyone who could happily be his soulmate.

  The mark was what looked like a pattern of flames that encircled his entire right wrist. It was blueish of colour and more intricate than any other soul mark he had seen. Most were either silver or a silver-gold, only occasionally were they any other colour. He hadn't seen many soul marks, only his fathers and those that weren't covered by clothing. None of them had been more complicated than a few lines and none of them had had colour.

  He didn't want it. He didn't want what it implied. He didn't want an unusual soul mark most of all. Jon sat in his room that morning for longer than usual just hoping that no one would miss him- which was unlikely. He just stared at the mark, running his fingers over it and rotating his arm to get a look at every angle. Every minute that passed was another minute that allowed the panic in his gut to slowly build. He didn't want this, he didn't want a soulmate. And so he put on his leather gauntlets, his black leather gloves, donned his furs and cloaks and stepped out into the cold air of the North having made up his mind that he would hide the mark forever.

  He was only half way down the corridor when he got pounced on by Arya and Bran, something that he wasn't very surprised about. The two looked at him excitedly, full with energy and hope and burst out together, "do you have a soul mark?"

  For a second he looked down at his two half siblings and gave them a rather forced smile. He didn't want to have the mark and knowing his family, or the younger ones at least, they would try to find his "other half". But he could see how much they wanted him to have the mask and lie he told hurt.

  "No. Sorry to disappoint but I don't have a soul mark," Jon lied. It was almost as if the mark on his wrist was burning, like flaming image it took on, as he denied it's existence.

  "Oh," Arya said in disappointment as Bran just offered small smile. They wished him a happy name day, giving him each a quick hug before moving on again, skittering down the corridor with energy levels that only children of their age could possess. 

   The bastard took a second to watch them, the weight of the situation forming a knot in his gut. How could he do this for the rest of his life?

__________

  As soon as he  walked out into the courtyard, Robb swooped down on him. Smiling as brightly as the southern son, he grabbed Jon's arm and pulled him over to where their father was standing expectantly. Robb had got his mark a few months before on his sixteenth name day, the mark bringing him great pride. His was three silver overlapping circles directly over his heart.

  "Well?" Robb asked as soon as they had reached Ned Stark.

  "Well what?" Jon asked, feigning ignorance.

  "Do you have a soul mark Jon?" Ned asked kindly despite the blatant avoidance. He knew that the reason they were having this discussion here and not at the breakfast table was because Lady Stark would not want to know.

  "No Father. I haven't," Jon lied easily, it didn't matter to him as much as it did to his little brother and sister. He still didn't understand why it was quite so easy though considering it was his father he was lying to, the honourable Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

  As he said those words he watched Robb's face for a reaction out of the corner of his eye, watched it as it dropped and his father nodded in contemplation. There was almost a look of sadness on the face of the Warden of the North, almost as if head hoped that Jon would have someone... Again the mark burned, or at least Jon thought it did. Was it guilt? Soul marks didn't do that normally did they?

  He didn't particularly like lying to the few that cared. But he didn't want a soulmate either. He didn't want to  _have_ to love someone. If he wanted to find someone to spend the rest of his life with he wanted it to be his choice.


	2. First Meeting

    Jon hadn't shown his soulmark to a single human soul ever since it had first appeared on his wrist, hadn't told anyone either. One advantage of living in the North was that he didn't have to. He could always wear his thick leather gloves and long sleeves to create layers upon layers between the unwanted mark and the world purely under the pretence of keeping out the cold.

  It had been years now since the dreaded thing had appeared on his wrist and still not a single person thought that he was anything other than an Unmarked. It was something that he had struggled with for the first few months. Bran and Arya constantly hoping that a mark might show and the constant guilt at the lie niggling under his skin, making him want to tell someone, just at least one person. 

  Despite how much he hated it, he found himself tracing the pattern, entranced by the way the light of the fire in the hearth danced off of it and seemed to make the blue flames move too. Normally late at night when he was in his chamber alone except for the direwolf Ghost. His direwolf. 

  When he had found the pup after all the rest he hadn't known what to hope. Would be able to keep it and have the animal of his father's house for his own? Did he want the the albino? A pup that was more likely to die than any of the other. Already Ghost was the size of a large wolf and was growing by the day, fur white as the Wall and eyes as red as the apples that came to Winterfell from Highgarden. He was a fearsome creature but he had never made a sound. 

  Even though he was proud of his friend now he had decided that he hadn't wanted it at the time. Ghost had been smaller than the rest, his fur blending in with the snowy North and, although he grew bigger than his brothers and sisters quickly, he still stood out from the other five. It was a reminder of how much if an outsider he was. It was another thing to love. To be loved by. But Ghost was good in the end. Dogs, and obviously direwolves, loved their masters. They felt it wholeheartedly and didn't discriminate against birth status. Ghost seemed to love Jon. Certainly after the months that Jon had had him for anyway, when he'd fed the creature, trained him, talked to him about things that he hadn't talked about with anyone else.

  Ghost was the only living thing he had shown his mark to... 

  Now he was going off to the Wall. He had had enough of Lady Stark's scorn. He had had enough of being the bastard of Winterfell. As a man if the Night's Watch he could do some good, could fight for the realm. He could protect Westros and those that he did love. At the Wall it was even colder, he could put even more layers between himself and his skin and hide it even from himself.

  Before he left though he had that confrontation with the king's imp brother in law Tyrion Lannister. "Remember what you are. The world will try to use it against you. Wear it like an armour and it can never be used to hurt you." Jon knew that those words would stay with him forever. Spending time with the Lannister had been more pleasant than he would have thought. When they parted way with Ned and Jon was promised that the truth about his mother would be revealed when they next saw each other he was put in an instant better mood.

  When he joined the Watch though it hadn't been the glamorous and honourable affair that he had thought. It was much more like his Uncle Benjen had promised. Castle Black was a harsh and unforgiving place as Jon soon found out. It was a sore blow to find that even in a place such as that, full of murderers and rapists, that he could still find his life to be hard as a result of being a bastard. The training master, Ser Alliser Thorne, had taken an instant disliking to him as had many of the other new recruits. 

  At nights he would sleep alongside the boy he had fought for, Sam, as well as the other two lads Pypar and Grenn- they were his friends there. That is until he became the Lord Commander's steward. That night Jon lay on his own bed in his own small chamber, curled up next to Ghost. He sunk his fingers into the thick, lush white fur and watched the flames circling his wrist. The blue glint shone in the light of the candle on the table beside his bed. He watched the rise and fall of his wolf's side, how the soft hairs moved against his skin. 

  It was a surreal moment. He'd finally said his vows and yet he was not a ranger as he had hoped, he was a steward. Still, in that moment, he felt nothing. Earlier he had been horrified to find that he would never be able to roam beyond the Wall but now there was nothing. Nestled among the furs alongside the great beast, Jon lay there and felt nothing. There was just an emptiness that came with the extinguishing of a last hope.

 __________

  The snow was thick, thick enough to trip them up as they trudged along. It clotted in the fur of their black cloaks and clung to their boots making them heavy and cumbersome. It sank through the layers of pelt and leather until the cold was able to eat away at their bones.

  They plunged on through the lifeless rocky terrain after Craster's keep until they came across a camp of small camp of wildlings and Jon managed to persuade Lord Commander Mormont to let him go out with the scout group. Halfhand shushed them and sent the group to creep around and surround the wildlings as soon as they reached the camp. Jon crept around a particularly large bolder, rough edges biting at his hand even through his leather glove.

  For only a moment he had to stand there before the first move was made. A Watchman drew his bow back, hidden by the ragged rocks, and loosed the arrow with enough precision to lodge the arrow in the chest of one of the wildlings. There was a moment of silence as the man looked down at the shaft protruding from his pectoral before he slumped backwards and chaos erupted.

  At once the wildlings scrambled up, grabbing at weapons and trying to flee. The men of the Night's Watch surged forward from all angles and swarmed the folk bellow.

  Jon swung his sword and took down one wildling as his comrades did the same around him, he felt a rush- it was the first time he had killed a man. Every other wildling seemed to be in combat with a Watchman but through the mad rush he saw one making a dash for it. Jon stumbled slightly in his pursuit but managed to grab the wildling by the back of the furs and drag them back.

  For a moment they struggled before Jon managed to flip the wildling onto their back and slam him down on one of the borders. Adrenaline pumping through his body, Jon tore back the wildling's hood, brushing the bare skin between his sleeve and glove briefly against the person's cheek realising that he was actually a woman. Their skin only touched for the briefest of moments but that brief moment was enough. 

  He had never felt anything like it. It was like fire ran through his veins and yet it didn't burn him. The flames brushed through his being until they reached his wrist which seemed to burn with even more intensity. It was pure power and magic. The feeling lasted but a split second, even so it left him breathless, heart beating a million miles an hour.

  He stared down at the wildling beneath him and saw her properly for the first time. The fur hood made a halo around hair as red as the sunset while startled blue eyes stared back at him from the most stunning face Jon had ever seen. She was breathing just as heavily as he was, a mix of panic and confusion in her expression which perfectly matched Jon's own emotions. He realised then that he was still holding the front of the wildling's parka, his grip pushing the pelt almost painfully into the palm of his hand. As soon as he realised this, he let go and pushed away from the rock, looking over to where Halfhand and the other Watchmen stood.   
  
  None of them seemed to have realised what just went on, they just stood there either looking to him expectantly or searching the bodies that now littered the campsite. Then again, they all thought that he was an Unmarked so how could they suspect anything anyway.

  Then again, who could expect or predict that a man of the Night's Watch would find their soulmate on the wrong side of the Wall even if they did have a soul mark. He had always thought it cruel that anyone should have him, a bastard, as their soulmate. Surely this pairing was even crueller, two people from different worlds, two worlds set firmly against each other for centuries. Two people who were doomed to be enemies. Yet there Jon Snow stood, his sword pointed at her, Qhorin Halfhand at his side, listening to the other man discuss the death of the woman who was his soulmate.

  His soulmate...

  She kept glancing up at him even as she made her sly remarks while Jon stood there with an odd feeling in his stomach. A feeling he felt towards her. One that he didn't want to feel. His gaze kept flicking between her face and her wrist where he soul mark must be, all covered up in furs. He couldn't deny to himself that she was beautiful.

  The Night's Watch had rules to do with allowing soulmates, it wasn't really possible to have any to the contrary. It was allowed to marry a soulmate if that was the relationship they had even after taking the vows. Still Jon thought they would draw the line at a wildling. 

  He decided that his judgement all those years ago was just, his decision that soulmates could not in any way be a good thing. How could this possibly be a good thing? He was a man of the Night's Watch, the bastard of a lord from the south side of the Wall. The soulmate that universe had chosen for him was a savage, a wildling. A being who would happily pillage and burn, plunder and destroy. This just couldn't be happening.


	3. Love

  Ygritte...

  She was the most beautiful thing in the world. Her spirit was as fiery as her orange locks, the strongest, most wilful woman that Jon Snow had ever met. He loved the sound of her laugh, he loved to look deep into those amazing blue eyes- as entrancing as the sunrise in the real North. Her smile was enough to lift his spirit and send it soaring free through the air.

  Somehow, the free folk  had excepted him into their numbers. Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, had quite literally welcomed him with open arms. Only a few days previously, even as he trekked through the snow with Ygritte as his hostage, he would have thought this to be a disaster. It was far from how he felt amidst the wildling army. He knew that it was wrong, that he was betraying his brothers of the Night's Watch, and yet for the very first time he felt truly  _happy_. He had found a place where no one really cared that his surname was Snow, that he was a bastard or that he had had a more advantageous upbringing, he felt a sense of belonging among their haphazard ranks. And he had Ygritte.

  He sometimes felt the discomfort of his betrayal and in the first few days after his arrival at the army camp he itched almost continuously with it, he had to remind himself that he was there to spy just as Halfhand had asked of him before Jon had killed him. Then was she betraying his soulmate? Yet she was still there somehow easing his itch while confusing him more over where he should really be laying his loyalties. 

  At first she was the most irritating human he had ever met and yet what she said of the wildlings had rung true. He had be so tense, even if she seemed not to be, as they trudged through the snow, her tied up, his prisoner because he couldn't kill her. She had asked him why they fought, the men of the Night's Watch against the wildlings, if they both have the blood of the First Men running through their veins.

  "You think we're savages just 'cause we don't live in stone castles. True our steel's not as good but we're  _free_."  

  That is what she had said to him as they walked though the frozen lands, their boots crunching in the snow and their furs protecting them from the frigid air. For a moment he had thought about it, about the freedom. Because even without his vows, there were always restrictions living in Winterfell ones that kept him from truly being free, whether they be from within his own mind or not. Yet only for a moment did those words strike him because again she was off about no sex in the Night's Watch and how she could teach him where to put it.

  "You know nothing Jon Snow."

  That was the first time she said it as he recalled, having no idea that the words meant of spite then would be repeated only filled with so many different emotions over the months.

  Then she had escaped from him, run through the hills and he had been captured the wildlings. Yet she stopped them from killing him- although that may have just been because they were soulmates. And then Halfhand had told him that he could make good out of the bad situation and be a spy. He had killed Halfhand, a man that he admired, a legend, just so that he could get inside the wildling ranks.

  He tried to remind himself that he was there for a reason he was there, that in the end his information from within the army would be invaluable to the Night's Watch. In reality the only thing that calmed him was Ygritte. As much as he hated it at first, her presence quickly became something that he craved and as much as he hid it she still seemed to sense that. More than that, it seemed like she wanted to be around him also. For the first time ever someone actually wanted him, maybe- no definitely- that would never happen if she wasn't his soulmate. But she didn't tell the Lord of Bones that Jon was her soulmate. At first he had found it all false, some sick trick because it couldn't be real. Yet he couldn't help but feel that it was real. He hated that.

  Then she stole his sword and took it down into a cave. Water flowed behind them, splashing noisily down onto the rocks and yet they were the only ones there. Their own world it seemed. It was there that he lost the title of maiden. There that she told him again that he knew nothing, only this time it was an endearing contrast to her previous words, filled with pleasure also as he made her feel good. It was so good in the moment and then afterwards as they kissed in the pool... It was the first time that they had seen each other's marks. He couldn't help but stare at it, even as she stared at the mark on his wrist- it made him feel even more naked than his actual lack of clothes. Together they lay in the water for a long while, tracing the lines of the other's wrist, every little touch of her soulmark sending a shiver through his body and hers. He took his time mapping her body with his mouth and with his calloused fingers, getting to know this fierce woman that was now his. 

  In that moment Jon felt that he really loved her, felt the love come back from her. They gazed into each other's eyes and Jon felt that he never wanted to leave that moment because there was no way that there would ever be another moment of such perfection. He was sure that this was the highest point of his life, that soulmates were in fact an amazing thing to be a part of. For the first time since he turned sixteen he was glad that he was not an Unmarked.

  They shared more moments, Tormund in particular supporting their growing closeness despite no knowledge of the true extent of their connection. He climbed the Wall with her, saved her from falling and felt the hysterical thrill of survival as they pulled themselves to the top- it was one of the most amazing things that he had ever done or could hope of doing ever again. Looking down from the top of seven hundred feet of ice and stone over the snow and trees had never felt so amazing knowing that it was his own four limbs that had pulled him up the Wall. Then there was the moment that he took Ygritte to see his world for the first time, pulling her over so that she could see the other side of the Wall. There they stood with the sun rising over the North, watching a moment before they kissed with the whole world spread out beneath them.

  When she saw her first windmill and mistook it for a castle he had laughed, he couldn't help but love her ignorance and find it endearing in such a competent and independent person. It was almost surreal to be in the North, his homeland, with her. The moment had taken a turn though as after a bout of fooling around and laughing she pushed him against a boulder with a burning passion in her wilful gaze.

  "You are mine and I am yours. If we die we die but first we'll live."

  In that moment he knew that he truly loved her, as if it wasn't real enough beforehand. He was grateful to all gods, old and new, that they had made her his soulmate, the free woman who was stronger and more beautiful than anything.  _His_  free woman. He didn't need the choice of who he'd love because he'd never choose anyone else other than Ygritte.


	4. Heartbreak

  Leaving her had caused him more pain than he had ever thought possible. He knew without a doubt that he loved her, that she was and would always be the most precious thing in his life. He just couldn't let the wildlings march on Castle Black, not with the pathetic numbers of men of the Night's Watch and the fearsome size of the wildling hoard- every single one of his brothers would be slaughtered.

  "Love is the death of duty," that's what Maester Aemon had said to him what felt like an age ago. He knew now truly what that meant because the choice between the two was crushing him, heart and soul.

  Over the months that he had spent with her their bond had grown and strengthened. It was powerful enough that they could sometimes even feel the ghost of the other's emotions- something that was said to be incredibly rare and very prized. It wasn't often that it happened but when it did they cherished it, Jon would wrap her in his arms and hold her as close to his heart as possible. When it did happen, when there was a particularly strong emotion they would be able to both feel it with clarity, the pain of that day was just one of them.

  When everything had kicked off he had killed Orell, shoved his sword through the heart of that son of a bitch like he had wanted to for so long.  For a moment he had stood and fought along side her and it felt good, it felt right even though he had made it so that she was fighting her own people and that was wrong. She was amazing with her bow and he was more than adapt with his valyrian steel blade, Longclaw. Then Orell's eagle had swooped down and clawed his face, tearing at his eyes. As Orell died and the eagle raced off  and Jon had run. With blood streaming down his face he swung himself onto one of their stolen horses, pushing it straight into a full gallop as soon as he was balanced on the beast's bare back. At that moment he felt the hurt, betrayal and anger deep in his chest. He knew it wasn't his own emotions and he felt a piece of himself break but he didn't stop the horse.

  He sort of sensed her at the pool. He crouched there, tenderly washing his face and the wounds from the eagle's claws, the cold water a relief and tormentor all at once. He was trying not to feel anything as he felt himself break further with every passing second. He had to warn his brothers in the Night's Watch but his entire being told him that he needed to be at his soulmate's side. Then through his struggle he felt her.

  Standing he turned to see her there on the moorland, bow drawn and arrow pointed at his heart. Her face was twisted in pain at his betrayal, the feeling so strong... It hurt him, piercing him as deeply as the arrow that she had pointed at him could. Jon offered her a smile but he knew that it was a broken and pathetic replica of the many that they had previously shared.

  "Ygritte you know I didn't have a choice. You always knew who I was... what I am," he wanted it to come out strong, for both her sake and his own yet he knew that his voice was broken with unshed tears.

  Her bow creaked but her position remained resolute, her eyes screaming out his betrayal. She looked so beautiful even at that moment when she was so hurt and it only crushed him further.

  "I have to go home now," he told her even as his heart cried out that  _she_  was his home. Would always be his home. "I know you won't hurt me."

  "You know nothing Jon Snow."

  There it was again, that phrase that Ygritte had spoken with love, with mirth, with distain and now with pure pain. It was those five words that gave him the chance of a weak laugh, a last bit of his mask that was held precariously in place in the face of the situation. He knew that she could see through it anyway, she would be able to feel the pain from him as easily as he felt the pain from her. There was a deep throb in his wrist where his soulmark burned under the strain, a throb that echoed through his being, making it so that he wanted to be there, to fix things.

  "I do know some things," he said with a sad smile," I know I love you."

  The simple sentence wrenched a sob from his soulmate's throat yet all she did was raise her bow higher, pull the string tighter. Now the pain on her face was undisguised. Her breathing was laboured as if she was fighting back tears.

  "And I know you love me," he continued. It was true, he could feel it seeping through their link, mixed through the betrayal that she felt. She had to love him just as he loved her because they were soulmates and that was the way of things. They were doomed to always love each other no matter what.

  "I have to go home now," Jon repeated, there was no more strength in his voice than the first time that he said it.

  He hesitated before he turned, glancing at her one last time but as he turned Jon heard the twang of Ygritte's bow a moment before the arrow buried itself in his shoulder, the impact throwing him to the ground with a pained grunt. It was physical pain that ran through him then, he felt the blood start to seep into his wildling furs and his muscles cramp in shock around the arrow head.

   He had known that there was a chance that that would happen as soon as he turned from her. She was so strong and fearsome and  turning had broken both the connection from his end and hers, making it easier for her to do what she felt she needed to do. Of course she was meant to kill him, only Jon knew that she would not... because she  _could_  not. He knew that much.

  The pain that spread though him from the arrow head and shaft buried in his shoulder was almost a relief after the initial shock, acting as a distraction from the moment. Quickly though, he pulled himself back up and onto the horse, the strain through his arm sending a new wave of agony through his body and wrenching a cry from his throat. As he settled she sent another arrow his way, this one burying itself into his thigh, he moaned of pain this time as he stifled another cry. His hand reached down instinctively and gripped his upper leg before hastily kicking his horse on. Ygritte may not kill him but she wanted to make him hurt nonetheless. As he galloped off yet another arrow made its way into the flesh of his back...

__________

  The Night's Watch had welcomed him back warily. With him turning up at the gates in wildling furs, full of arrows and admitting to both the murder of Qhorin Halfhand and sleeping with a wildling girl it would have been plain idiocy on his part to think that it would be any other way. He was even sneered at for speaking like his soulmate's people using free folk as a term instead of wildlings but it was habit and he couldn't bring himself to call them anything else when he now thought that the term wildling was as insulting as the people thought it.

  There wasn't much time for the hostility though, Maester Aemon had forgiven him and they had a war to prepare for with the information that Jon had brought back from his time amoungst the free folks.  

  Jon stood atop the wall alongside Dolorous Edd, Grenn and Ser Alistair, watching the hoards of free folk approach, their wild cries reaching up to them right at the top of the great ice structure. Beyond the army the trees burned, a huge bonfire that lit up the night with flames licking at the sky itself- a fire bigger than anything the real North had ever seen just as Mance had promised. Of course things weren't that simple and just as the men at the top of the Wall drew their flaming arrows a horn sounded. There were wildlings on the other side of the Wall, the south side.

  There were many more wildlings than the rag tag bunch that Jon had travelled with.

  Ser Alistair  quickly left to sort the line at the southern gate leaving the order to loose. The arrows shot through the sky like fallen stars yet only hit a few wildlings, the army just that little bit too far away. Their mocking screams intensified, still loud enough to reach Jon's ears seven hundred feet up.

  Slynt, left in charge by Alistair seemed to be a quivering wreck, babbling on to himself until Grenn got rid of him and Jon took charge. He looked to the frightened face of the men around him but could only feel a sense of detachment himself. He was completely calm. Then the giant loosed his own arrow.

  The thing was more like a spear, splintering the structure above Jon's head. Just as he called for the archers to knock again the giant loosed a second arrow, this one driving straight through the man next to Jon and sending him flying from the Wall. He whipped his head around shocked but quickly turned back to the hooting, howling army- he had seen giants before it was nothing new to him now.

  As the giants tried to pull down the gates with great beasts they dropped their burning oil on Jon's order. The creature screamed as the explosion struck behind it and ran, one giant running after it only to be felled by another of the Night's Watch's weapons. The remaining giant screamed in anger and took up the ropes abandoned by the beast. The last oil drum, stuck, exploded sending archers falling the height of the Wall to a messy death on the ground. Everything was just so loud around them all and the battle hadn't even properly started.

  As the giant pulled the gate open Jon realised that he could no longer stand at the top of the Wall. Edd would do a fine job without him there. Grenn left to with a group of brothers to take down the giant breaching the gate leaving Jon free to help the failing forces of the men down among the attacking Thenns, already in the castle.

  It was down there that he drew Longclaw and fought against the people that he had been a part of for so many months. He slew wildlings everywhere, their chaotic charge making it easy for them to be taken down. He had Sam release Ghost and watched briefly as his faithful companion ripped at the wildling invaders with long, savage teeth. The bastard whirled through the masses until he came upon a Thenn that was crashing through the ranks of Night's Watch men as easily as Jon was cutting through the wildlings. At the same time they seemed to register each other, charging both with their own battle cries.

  The fight was rough, switching favour regularly until the Thenn had Jon pinned. It would have been the death of him if he hadn't of remembered the lesson he had learnt in his early days at Castle Black; it's okay to fight dirty if it saves your life. Jon spat a great glob of bloody spit into the Thenn's face, taking the bigger man off guard and allowing Jon to grab a hammer from the forge behind it and bury it in the Thenn's skull. He felt no remorse about leaving behind his father's and Ser Rodrick's lessons about honourable fighting. There was no use for that in battle.

  It was then, as he somewhat staggeringly strode away from the body of the dead Thenn, that he sensed her. As he stumbled back he sensed the fear, anger and betrayal in a way that only their link could convey. Panting, he turned and saw her standing there, the same wonderfully strong woman, her face contorted in a savage anger. Jon just smiled. He supposed that he must look a state through all of the blood and mud and despite the arrow pointed at his heart he was so unbelievably glad to see her. So incredibly glad and relieved that he couldn't quite make sense of it. 

  Yet it was Ygritte who suffered an arrow to the heart. As they stood at a standstill it ripped through her back to protrude from her chest. In that moment Jon felt the arrow, he felt the metal and wood tear through his flesh, he reached a shaking hand to his own chest as the pain rippled through him only to find that there was no arrow there, it was all coming from Ygritte.

   The bastard whipped round then to see little Ollie with bow in hand and a determined set to his face. The boy simply nodded to him before disappearing into the chaos with no idea of who had just shot, but Jon didn't waste a moment rushed over to his dying soulmate in time to catch her just before she fell.

  She collapsed into his arms as his legs gave way also, too weak with the sensation of her pain bombarding his senses through their link.

  "Jon Snow," she breathed as he stared down at her in horror.

  "Don't talk."

  "Do you remember that cave?"

  Jon nodded down at her, remembering that beautiful moment while despairing for the present.

  "We should have stayed in that cave."

  "We'll go back there."

  "You know nothing Jon Snow."

  There it was. Those same five words. Said with forgiveness with a dying breath. The words were laboured and broken, Jon finding himself following every movement of his soulmates lips with desperation.

  Then she died... 

  His soul mark burned with more intensity than it ever had before. He felt her die in every fibre of his body, felt part of himself die with her. The pain of it all made the pain of their previous parting seem like the passing nip of a winter's wind. He stared down at her face, still half unable to believe that she was dead despite what their connection and what his body told him. Yet there she was, limp in his arms, normally bright eyes dull and lifeless, her lips breathless, her chest still, the arrow protruding out.

  As the pain faded Jon felt nothing but an emptiness. He couldn't feel anything through her side of the connection and as soon as she had died the more physical pain in his chest had disappeared also. He just couldn't feel her emotions, she had none anymore, but his own seemed to be dulled and distant as well. The sorrow and loss  was hollowing him out it seemed.

  As he pressed his forehead to hers he once again questioned if the world was better off for soulmates if this was what it felt like when one half of a pair died. This couldn't be a just thing. How could this be a thing. He couldn't imagine going on without her there. How could this be a thing? He felt as if he had nothing left, his entire world had fallen down around him with one arrow shot true.


	5. Ygritte

   She fought against her own people for him in a land that was not her own. She did it because she felt that she had to. Ygritte had always looked forward to the day that she would meet her soulmate, together they could be a team- the greatest known to the whole of the real North, to the whole of Westeros and beyond- they would be someone that she could rely on to have her back while she had their's. Her soulmate would be someone that wouldn't judge her for who she was and would never want to leave her. That was why she had fought for Jon Snow. Because he was her soulmate, her team, and she loved him more than anyone else in her life.

   Then Tormund grabbed her and pinned her arms to her side. Ygritte tried desperately to wriggle away, to escape, but he was so much stronger than she was. He friend fell to the ground as she struggled, her still firmly held in his arms. It was there that she saw Jon vault onto a horse and gallop off without even a backwards glance. She tried not to listen to the words Tormund whispered to her, she didn't need to hear them. He didn't need to tell her that Jon had betrayed her, she could feel it down to the very heart of her being. She was hurt beyond belief at his betrayal but angry more than even that. You couldn't afford to just be hurt by betrayal, not if you were one of the free folk. That was what made up her mind as to what to do next.

   Tormund let her up as Jon Snow and the horse disappeared from view, she shook him off angrily and stared off to where her soulmate had vanished from view, struggling not to cry as the lump in her throat seemed to grow. As she looked out over the southern lands she knew that she would have to track Jon Snow down, he couldn't be let to get back to his crows, couldn't be allowed to tell them all of their plans for taking over Castle Black. Soulmate or no soulmate, she'd betrayed her people for him but he had betrayed her. Now she knew where his alliance lay and she knew where she should put hers. Never again would it be divided. So she went after him but not to help him.

   That was how she found him at the pool, crouched down with his back to her, the horse standing calmly a few feet away. Seeing him there just spiked new feelings, because she realised that she couldn't kill him even after what he had done to her. She silently pulled an arrow from behind her and drew her bow, pointing it at his back as she tried to compose herself and not let the pain show.

   Jon Snow must have sensed her because he stood then, turning to face her. His face was twisted with hope and sadness, red wounds from Orell's eagle cutting through the beautiful, pale skin. In that moment she felt the turmoil going on within him and a shot of deep pain at the sight of her, shared across their link. She loved their link, so rare, unique and special. She knew she wouldn't be able to break it. Just looking into his handsome face and his dark, desperate eyes she knew. A smile played at his lips and, even with claw marks carved into his face, Ygritte saw only how beautiful her soulmate was. That just hurt even more.

   "Ygritte you know I didn't have a choice. You knew who I was... what I am," his voice was full of the threat of tears, she could feel him breaking through their link.

   He was right though, she knew what he was. He was a crow. Crows killed her people, they didn't live with them, fall in love with them. Crows didn't have free folk soulmates. No wonder he wanted to leave, go back to his brothers in black and leave her behind. 'Cause his stupid vows went against everything that their soulmarks showed. That was why she didn't lower her bow, even as she felt herself falling apart the same as him. She kept the arrow pointed right at Jon Snow the crow.

   "I have to go home now," he told her but those words seemed to cause him even more anguish than the last.

   There was a brief moment of silence before he said, "I know you won't hurt me." She knew that he believed it almost completely, only a shadow of doubt clouding his statement.

   "You know nothing Jon Snow," she told him, none of the warmth from the last time she had said those words.

   Yet she didn't really know why she had repeated the phrase, she'd said those words with contempt the first time, she remembered, but then they just showed the link between the two. Showed that it was still there, both to him and to herself.

   "I do know some things," he said with another small smile, as if encouraged by her last comment," I know I love you."

   The words wrenched a sob from Ygritte's throat, because she could feel through their link how much he still loved her and she could feel in her own heart how much she still loved him. She didn't know what to do anymore, she couldn't let him go, she just couldn't, but he was going anyway and Ygritte knew that she would not be able to kill him. She fought the tears that threatened behind her eyes and raised the bow a touch, almost as a reassurance to herself that the situation wasn't completely out of her control.

   "And I know you love me."

   The two things that Jon Snow knew... She knew them also. But the two things that he knew were tearing her apart as she stood there with her beloved bow and arrow pointed at... well pointed at her beloved.

   "I have to go home now," he told her, repeating his earlier words.

   As he turned, now facing away and making true to his words, she felt as if the tension left her slightly. It was the only reason that she was able to release the arrow. She watched as it buried itself in his shoulder, feeling the ghost of it in her own. Jon Snow fell forward with a cry of pain which almost made her want to run over to him. Almost. She didn't know why she shot him, she wasn't going to kill him, she knew that she couldn't and there was no way that she could pretend otherwise. Yet her soulmate was wrong about one thing; she could hurt him.

   As he rose and pulled himself back up the horse's brown side she hastened to knock another arrow. She loosed it as he sat, landing it in his thigh and feeling the phantom sting yet again. She couldn't feel his emotions in that moment making it easier to put a third arrow in his back as he galloped away, half slumped over the horse's neck.

__________

   Ygritte hated Thenns. She knew that Tormund at her side hated Thenns. She knew that they were repulsive, freakish cannibals that pretty much everyone hated. However they were big- huge even- making Tormund look like an average sized man. They were good, ruthless fighters and that was why they were on this side of the Wall with Ygritte's group ready to attack the southern gate of Castle Black. Even Jon Snow didn't know that part of Mance's plan and she revelled in the detail feeling a savage joy at the thought.

   They attacked when they knew that the crows were distracted by the impressive army that Mance had put together on the other side of the Wall, charging forward where they knew there to be only a few men positioned. Ygritte darted along with her fellow free folk, grabbing the flaming arrows that were fired at them and fitting them into her own bow to return to the sender. It was obvious that all of the men protecting the gate had no clue what they were doing, all of the real archers were off protecting the north side of the castle.

   It was just as Mance had said though. And it made it easy to get through the wood and into the castle, almost stupidly easy, no way were there as many men as Jon. Then again it made sense for him to lie about that.

   The chaos that their arrival brought was instant. In normal circumstances Ygritte would have thought it hilarious, how Jon had thought that they were just an unorganised rabble, yet here they were in the 'mighty' ranks of the Night's Watch. Maybe he was just making it up to cover up for the fact that that was the exact thing that the Night's Watch and the oh-so honourable crows were.

   Ygritte crouched on the higher levels of the castle where the archers used to be. She shot arrow after arrow, always hitting her mark. The free woman flitted about, leaping from perch to perch easily, always searching. She couldn't use all of her arrows up before she found him. Jon Snow would have an arrow to the heart this time, she wouldn't falter this time- she couldn't. So she searched, watching the messy battles below, looking for the mess of dark curls but not finding them. He must be on the Wall.

   There was a great clanking and the lift came down, she readied herself, watching for the crows that spilled out. But Jon Snow wasn't one of them, only a bunch that she didn't know led by a tall, white haired man. In frustration she shot another arrow into another crow, jumping down from her place to another wooden walkway. He had to come down at some point, as many things as her soulmate was, he was no coward.

   For a second time the lift descended, this time one single crow, small and unimpressive, looking as if he were about to wet himself. Ygritte watched him scamper across the courtyard, disappearing into one of the buildings, never once drawing his sword, avoiding all and every free folk fighter. Yellow cowardly idiot, so much for the honour of the Night's Watch. Ygritte found herself sneering, how had her people been kept in fear for so many hundreds of years by a group as useless and spineless as this?

    It was the third time the lift came down that he was there. Jon Snow didn't even wait for it to fully reach the ground before jumping out, sword raised. The polar opposite of the man that had come down previously. Ygritte ignored the other crows that spilled out of the lift as it reached the ground, instead springing from her place to another walkway following the progress as her soulmate cut down her people as easily as Styr cut down crows.

   It was inevitable that the Thenn and her soulmate crossed blades and Ygritte watched as they did. At first Snow stood his ground, Ygritte making no move to intervene. She had every faith that Jon would end the Thenn and who was she to stop him. Ygritte hated the brute so it was a bonus if Jon took him out before she took Jon out. So she followed their little battle, watching and finding herself almost nervous as the Thenn through Jon who rolled across a forge only to be grabbed once more by then Thenn. She watched as her soulmate struggled against the Thenn's huge hand and iron grip. For a moment Ygritte thought that she wouldn't get a chance to kill her soulmate herself, that that dirty Thenn would get the right. Then Jon Snow spat a bloody glob of saliva into the Thenn's face, swinging around to grab a hammer from the forge as the Thenn's grip relaxed. Jon buried the hammer in Styr's skull and Ygritte made her move.

   She jumped down into the courtyard and pointed her drawn bow at her soulmate as he bent down to retrieve his sword. As he stood he clocked her, standing there for the briefest second before smiling at her. She felt his genuine relief at seeing her even after how they had ended in the moors. It made her pause as he smiled, not small and sad like last time but a real reflection of the emotions she felt through their link. Well damn him! If he hadn't learnt anything from last time then he really did know nothing.

   She stared at her soulmate, covered in blood, hair ruffled and falling in his face, matted in yet more blood. She just stared. Just stood there, bow drawn but arrow still in place. She knew then that she really wouldn't be able to kill him. He was still so beautiful and she loved him so much even now.

   Just as she came to that conclusion she felt herself get winding. Gasping she dropped the bow as the pain lanced through her, staring down she saw an arrow protruding through her chest having rammed right through from her back. She fell but Jon was there to catch her. Maybe they were still a team. Maybe he never would truly leave her. 'Cause he was here now wasn't he?

   It was hard to breath but as she looked up at him, her soulmate, the man she really loved, she felt that things cleared. She didn't have to chose now, she didn't have to be confused and conflicted. He was there. Why did she ever doubt him? She felt all of the anger leave her and wished that she had forgiven him sooner, he was just doing what he thought was right. And he had such a good heart that what he did probably was the right thing.

   "Jon Snow," she breathed.

   It hurt to speak but his name felt so right on her lips that she just had to say them.

   "Don't talk," he told her, voice broken, face filled with horror.

   She could feel his desperation and disbelief clogging up their link, stronger than any emotion that she had ever felt from him before. He didn't know what to do, was panicking. He was usually so calm... she'd never felt such extreme fear. It made sense though, she supposed.

   "Do you remember that cave?" she asked, it hurt to talk but she had to. She wasn't an idiot, she knew she was going to die so she had to let him know, let him remember after she was gone that she forgave him. That she really did love him too. Wholly and completely.  

   Her soulmate nodded down to her, tears in his eyes and matted hair flopping down, he was a beautiful sight even now. She would be ever grateful that his face was the last thing she would see. 

   "We'll go back there," he said quietly, a broken promise that she knew was a lie. That he knew was a lie. She would never go anywhere again.

   "You know nothing Jon Snow."


	6. Life After

  He felt as if he wasn't whole. He felt as if there was something missing from his very being. He knew exactly what that piece was and yet he could never get that one thing back to make him whole again. Ygritte was dead, Jon had burned her beyond the wall just as she would have wanted, still he hadn't been able to bring himself to actually watch the flames eat up his soulmate.

  Now he led as Lord Commander after his mentor Jeor Mormont was murdered by filthy cowards. He'd gotten the place by one chip and Jon was no fool, he knew that there were plenty that opposed him. Plenty that didn't trust him because of his time with the wildlings. The thing was, Jon found himself caring less and less. Stannis Baratheon and the Red Lady occupied Castle Black alongside the brothers of the Night's Watch now and even Stannis wanted Jon else where. Still Jon didn't care.

  He had lost friends in the battle against the wildlings, Pip and Grenn among the many brothers that died. Sam and Dolorous Ed were left behind with him, both of them catching his change in mood. Whenever they questioned his new distance, Jon just told them that he was thinking of how he could fix the mess that the Night's Watch had become.

  In the end, after Stannis rode off, tired of waiting for Jon, the Lord Commander made a move. He knew that he needed to save the Free Folk from the Whitewalkers and the Others. The undead monsters that would kill every last man woman and child beyond the wall. So he set off with Tormund and Ed in Stannis' ships, ready to save as many wildlings as would come.

  It was there at Hardhome that Jon saw the true terror of the Whitewalkers. The dead were throwing themselves at the gates, off of cliffs. Innumerable amounts of bodies everywhere, an inescapable press of half decayed things that used to be human beings.

  Jon watched, fought and stood among the chaos as people screamed, as they fought and as they died. He cut down creature after creature in a desperate attempt o stay alive himself, fighting even as the wildlings made their way to the ships and to safety. In the chaos he was stuck just by standing amongst his soulmate's people once more, unable to quite comprehend that he was actually able to help them, to in a way do something for Ygritte.

  Then he went looking for the dragon glass and ran into the Whitewalker. His frosty blue skin and piecing, evil eyes chilled Jon to the bone, sent fear spiking through his being like he had not felt since he had held Ygritte as she died. Even more terrifying than the relentless madness of the army of Others.

  The Whitewalker strode through the smoke of the burning building, an evil and supposedly unstoppable force. And yet Jon killed it. Not with dragon glass as Sam had but with Longclaw. With Valyrian steel. The Whitewalker shattered into shards of ice as Jon's blade cut through him, the sheer shock of the action freezing him to the spot.

  In the end he had gotten onto the last boat back to the ships, watching as the dead rose from where they had fallen as another Whitewalker lifted his hands. He had saved some of the wildlings but yet more were there across from him with blank blue eyes, thousands upon thousands of dead just standing there watching as they left. Jon knew then that they had no hope of fighting the Whitewalkers and the Others.

***

  "For the watch," Ser Alistair half whispered to him as he pulled his blade from his stomach.

  "For the watch."

  "For the watch."

  Five blades pierced him, burning as they cut through his flesh and blood began to pour out of his stomach from each new wound. Each man gripping him by the shoulder saying those three words as they sunk the steel into him. Jon was painfully aware of the "Traitor" cross behind him, the cross to mark his death place. They just crowded around him, his body burned, each new wound seeming to burn more than the last. His breathing coming out in sharp gasps, a grunt of pain escaping him each time another man stepped forward.

  It was because he had let the wildlings through the wall. Yet even in that moment he didn't regret it. Even as he fell to his knees and Ollie approached him. His trusted little Stuart who killed his soulmate to save him. It seemed almost fitting that he should kill Jon also.

  As Ollie withdrew the knife from his heart he had a split second to be grateful that he could be with Ygritte again. That he could be whole again.


	7. Resurrection

  Tormund stood looking down at Jon Snow's lifeless body. The crow Ed had brought him up, saying that they needed all the help they could get. Tormund didn't really care why the crow had brought him, he just couldn't believe that Jon Snow was dead. He wanted to rip apart everyone that had taken his life, make them feel the consequences  of their actions. Give them the send of that they deserved as cowardly bastards.

  He felt the rage boiling through his blood and had to put all of his effort into just clenching his fists and not punching someone. Or killing someone. Boy did he want to cut a crow head off right now. Or six, 'cause that was how many holes there were in Jon Snow's clothes.

  Then they gave him hope. 'Cause living around wargs gave him faith in magic, he'd seen Whitewalkers raise the dead from where they lay so he'd be a complete moron not to believe. The hope that the crows and the southern king's man, Davos or something, gave came in the form of magic, they had a magic woman.The Red Lady. She was beautiful but Tormund couldn't find it within himself to trust her, there was just something there. Whatever it was he could overlook it if she was going to bring the bastard back. He was dead anyway so what was the worst that could happen, they could deal with one undead creature if it came to that. Besides, the Lady seemed to want Snow breathing as much as the rest of them did.

  Before she started though she had Jon undressed. That was when questions started to circle. Apparently it wasn't common place for someone with a soulmark to be in the Watch, not with the crow's stupid rules making life hell for someone with a soulmate. And apparently it was thought that Jon Snow was Markless.

  It came about as the crow that had fetched him had pulled the last of the leather off of Jon Snow's torso, pulling the sleeve off with care and revealing the soulmark on his wrist. Tormund hadn't been surprised, he had known Ygritte was marked, had seen her mark. He also knew how much she valued the mark and the connection she would have with her mate. She wouldn't just get so attached to anyone.

  The mark was a shiny black, like the dragon glass used to kill Whitewalkers. It was a pattern of flames circling his right wrist just like Ygritte's mark had been. The only thing was the colour, the black of a dead soulmate, and it saddened him, almost making the death of his friend more real. He couldn't imagine how much pain it caused Jon Snow as he was Markless and would never built such a connection. He could only think that the loss was great.

  "I thought he was meant to be Unmarked," the Davos man said.

  "As did I," the Red Lady agreed.

  "We all did. It was something that he actually said to me one time. Literally asked him if he had one and he told me no," Ed told the room.

  Tormund stayed silent as the others fell quiet, looking around them and then back at the mark on their dead King Crow's wrist. It was the Red Lady that broke the lengthening silence.

  "You do not seem surprised wildling," she said to him.

  "Names Tormund not wildling and no, knew his soulmate is all," Tormund replied, annoyed at being addressed so by the woman.

  "Knew his soulmate?" Davos echoed with raised eyebrows.

  "Must be that wildling girl that he admitted to sleeping with," Ed spoke up.

  "That'd be 'er," Tormund snorted. Of course that would be the reputation that Ygritte would get.

  "What happened to her?" the Red Woman asked, gesturing at the mark.

 "Well she died didn't she. Why don't we just get on with making this small-peckered idiot not dead," Tormund snapped, they didn't even know that Snow had had a soulmate, it was none of their business as to what it was all about.

__________

  The woman repeated her incantation, hand over the stab wounds on Jon's chest. Yet nothing happened. Again she said the words and Jon remained lifeless and unmoving on the table.

  The first to leave was the wilding Tormund and then Ed. The rest of the brothers filled out, all looking over at the dead body of their Commander with hopeless gazes. Even as Melisandre left but Davos stayed. He hadn't known Jon Snow for long but he had respected what he had seen, the man was probably one of the only left in the whole of Westeros without an agenda, only wanting to help save as many lives as possible. One of the last purely good people left, a rare phenomena which he had hoped to help in through his life. Yet there he was, stabbed by his own men because he had done a noble deed.

  At that moment, as Davos looked down at the dead man, there was a flash of blue light, blinding him. As the light dimmed somewhat, Davos saw that it was circulated around Jon Snow's wrist, around his soul mark. As he watched, the eyes flew open and Jon gasped, taking in a great lungful of air.

  The Lord Commander slowly sat up, still gasping in air and clutching at his wrist, looking down to see the slowly fading light seeping through his fingers. All Davos could do was stare as Jon looked around with panic in his brown eyes. As he spotted Davos he made to get up, sliding off the table and stumbling into the cloak that Davos held out for him. 

  He held the man but he couldn't quite believe it, he could feel the pounding heart and the erratic breaths where there had been nothing for days. He let Jon sit back, both of them glancing down at the now blue mark on Jon's wrist, neither of them quite able to comprehend the events. Before him sat a man back from the dead.


	8. Rising

She gasped in the frigid air, desperately trying to fill her lungs as if she hadn't breathed in days. But had she? She could remember the arrow through her chest, the pain and then the numbness. She remembered Jon Snow being there. She remembered forgiving him in her last moments, moments that were too late for it to really mean anything. She just hoped that it had meant something to him.

In short, Ygritte knew that she had died. Knew it as surely as she knew that Jon Snow was her soulmate.

She looked down at herself, unsure of how she was there. Because she would know the trees of the real North anywhere, and around her were the trees of the True North. She was wearing the same furs that she had been when the free folk had stormed Castle Black. Yet her bow and her arrows were not there, she smelt strongly of wood smoke.

It was as she looked around her that she felt her wrist burning. Pulling up her sleeve she saw the blue glow around her wrist where her soulmark was. It glowed like it never had before, the same blue as it had been ever since Jon had first touched him. Tenderly she clasped her hand over it and watched as the light shone through her fingers, slowly fading.

As the last of the light faded she let go of the mark, looking down and twisting her wrist around so as to see the entire thing. It looked just like it had since she had bonded with her soulmate... Why had it glowed?

Ygritte realised that she was still half lying in the snow, the wetness from the melted snow soaking through the furs to chill her skin. It didn't really bother her, she had lived with such occurrences all her life, she also knew that to keep lying there would be to get ill. So she pushed herself up, pulling back down her sleeves and pulling up her gloves slightly. She felt naked without her bow, subconsciously touching her back where its weight would normally lie. Its absence was disturbing to her.

Looking around she tried to get a baring of where she was. In the end, Ygritte concluded that she wasn't that far from the wall. The wall was where Jon would undoubtedly be. She felt like she needed to be there with him, needed to see him, hold him. Ygritte needed to tell him straight that she forgave him.

Without a backwards glance she made off towards the wall, through the trees, edging through the snow still painfully aware of the lack of weapon at her back. The trees were so real against her hand as she brushed past, the crunch of the snow beneath her feet so crisp, that she couldn't help but know that this was all real rather than a dream. Just the cold air biting at her bare face was enough to anchor her to reality.

***

He didn't know why his mark was blue once more rather than the black that it had been ever since Ollie shot that arrow through Ygritte's heart. It felt different too. It was softer now, more like the rest of his skin, after his soulmate died it had felt more like a scab- uneven and raised from his skin. An unhealed wound from the agony of her passing.

Now Jon didn't feel that emptiness that he had felt for so long. The kind of coldness that meant his soulmate was not sharing the world with him. He felt the same normal, whole feeling that he had felt ever since they had bonded. Only now he was permanently scared. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but he had been relieved that he was dying. Not only would he be with Ygritte again, but he would also be free of the responsibility of Lord Commander, he would be free of the terror of the Whitewalkers and the constant sense of impending doom.

Jon could feel that now, only his mark was blue and he could feel her presence. It was the first thing he did as he gave up his position of Commander to Ed- he went straight to Melisandre.

There she was on the chair before the fire, gazing calmly and peacefully into the flames. For a moment he stood there in the doorway until she looked up at him, her gave intense as if she could see down to his newly resurrected soul. For an even longer moment they stood there like that until Jon broke the stare and stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

"What are you here for Lord Snow?" she asked quietly.

"I wanted to know if bringing me back could have brought back my soulmate also," Jon said, deciding that there was no point beating around the bush. Everyone knew about his mark by now, the whispers around the castle being non too subtle.

Melisandre just looked at him sadly, unsure of herself for what seemed like the first time ever.

"Your mark was black wasn't it? She died, the wildling Tormund knew but he wouldn't say how, it seemed like a sore subject," Melisandre said, taking a step closer.

"Yes, he cared for her, pretty much raised her," Jon told her quietly, looking down at his feet.

"How did she die Jon?" the Red Lady asked, taking another step forward.

"She was killed in the Battle of Castle Black. I burnt her body outside the gates," Jon stated, looking directly at the woman across from him, not letting any emotion seep into his voice.

As Melisandre did was nod and look away slightly before taking a few more steps forward so that she was standing at arms length away from him. Jon looked at her, almost weary of being so close despite the distance.

"May I see?" she asked holding out her hand.

Jon hesitated for a moment, he had never willingly shown his soulmark to any other being bar Ygritte. Still after a long pause be pulled off his glove, rolled the sleeve up slightly and held his wrist out for her.

The Red Lady took his hand and ran her forefinger gently over the mark, blue standing out starkly against the skin after weeks of black. He watched carefully as she scanned it, gently tracing the pattern. He felt twitchy, ready to pull back at any moment. It felt wrong. No one but Ygritte had ever touched his mark. He vowed in that moment that no one else ever would.

"Can you feel her?" the Red Lady asked softly.

"Yes," Jon replied, voice barely audible. He almost couldn't stand the rush of hope that threatened to drown him.

Melisandre dropped his wrist and looked directly at him, blue eyes piercing him.

"She's alive Jon Snow."

 


	9. Reunion

  Jon left the castle on horse back, trotting alone into the trees and snow of the True North. Alongside him trotted Ghost, his friend's long legs allowing him to easily keep pace with the horse. Melisandre had told him that his soulmate was alive and he himself knew that she was alive, he could feel it in the very deepest part of his being. He also knew that he had to find his soulmate, because he still wasn't completely sure if she had forgiven him for leaving. He needed to find her so that he could be whole again.

  It was that one need that made him surge forward as he pressed him horse forward into a canter through the snow. The trees passed one by one and although he didn't really know where he was going, he just felt. He'd burnt Ygritte's body in her home land on the other side of the wall from his home, he knew that she would be somewhere on this side. He just didn't know where exactly. So he just rode. He just rode as Ghost ran beside them.

  He drove his horse more frantically through the trees, leading him in the way that his heart told him to. That was until the trees started to thin more and the snow started to deepen, forcing him to slow down as the horse's struggles increased even as the direwolf continued on with ease.

***

  She stood there among the trees, they were thinner, as if she was on the edge of the woods. She didn't know exactly where she was, even though she had lived in this land all of her life... She still thought that her life had ended anyway. She was sure of it. She could almost feel the arrow that had pierced her chest. Ygritte kept looking down at where the bloodied weapon had protruded before her death, running her hand over the now unbroken fur.

  Even as she stood there wondering if she was standing in some afterlife she heard something. It was the crunching of snow and it came from her left. The free woman quickly spun around to face the noise. It was then that she saw the black horse trotting carefully through the snow and on his back was Jon Snow alongside ran the great white direwolf that she knew to be her soulmate's.

  "Jon Snow," the name came from her mouth before she could stop it. She didn't really want to stop it any way because when the brown eyes turned to her it was worth it.

  Her soulmate pulled back on the reins, the horse throwing back his head with a snort as he stopped. The wolf turned red eyes upon her. The man that she loved more than life slid from the saddle, never taking his eyes away from her and she felt her heart skip a beat. Ygritte stood still, watching him come closer, his steps were steady and confident, not like they used to be. The way he moved in general was different, something big had happened to change him.

  "I can't believe that you're actually alive," Jon Snow said as he stopped an arms length away.

  There was that same smile on his face that there had been when he had first seen her as the battle between crows and free folk raged around them. It was sad, hopeful and loving all at once, just as it was then.

  She didn't say anything, just looked back at his beautiful face. It was like it had been before she'd died, and she was alive now, Jon had confirmed that for her, except there was an age there that hadn't been there before. It wasn't age like he was getting old, it was

   "How long have I been gone?" Ygritte asked eventually after a long stretch of silence with nothing but the sound of the horse snorting. The direwolf watched the pair silently from a little way away but Ygritte was unthreatened.

  "Not that long, but it feels like forever," Jon told her sadly.

  "Well I'm not gone anymore Jon Snow. I'm here and love you," Ygritte told him, she felt warm tears fall down her face because she had missed him despite not knowing the time for which she had been dead.

  He smiled wider as if that was all that he had been waiting to hear, his whole face lit up and he looked impossibly more beautiful. Her soulmate closer the space between them in two strides, bringing his hand up to cup her face once he was close enough. She felt a swell of love as she leaned into his warm touch before grabbing the front of his clothes and pulling him into a heated kiss.

***

  "Well I'm not gone anymore Jon Snow. I'm here and I love you," Ygritte told him. There were tears falling from the corners of her blue eyes and seven gods did she look like the most breath-taking creature to ever walk the earth in that moment.

  The words hit him as he watched her and Jon knew that she forgave him. He knew that she loved him. He could feel her happiness seeping through their bond and all it did was increase his own. It was then that he felt truly happy himself, the first time since he had left his soulmate.

  Without thinking he stepped forward and touched his hand to her face. He needed to touch her, almost as if to make certain that she really was there, that he when he felt the warmth and softness of her cheek that he really smiled. He could feel all of the love and joy swelling up inside him and then she kissed him and it was the best thing in the world.

  As the kiss grew more and more passionate, his hand wondered down. He drew it down Ygritte's fur covered arm until it met the join between the glove and the sleeve. There he wormed his fingers under until he touched the mark on her wrist and it was like they were bonding all over again.

 

END


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